


Fur and Blood

by shadowcaster



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Anna ain't dead, Blood Kink, But Damon is hella sprung, Damon ain't a bitch, F/M, Other, Season 2 AU, Starting this shit from season one, Wolf Shifters, fell off after season three imo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcaster/pseuds/shadowcaster
Summary: Damon's having a spot of trouble. Stefan is in need of blood rehab, the tomb vampires are on the quest for revenge and John is being an asshole. To help clean up the mess, Damon decides to call in an old friend of his, Evan Quinn, for help.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A mere prologue at the ending of "Miss Mystic Falls" back in season one. I'm keeping it OG. Next chapter kicks off with "Blood Brothers."
> 
>  
> 
> This fic miiiight cause me to be obsessed with Damon again.

"It's okay... It's going to be okay..."

 

He listened to his younger brother's heart rate slow down to almost a complete stop as his brother's girlfriend's sped up from what she had just done. A sigh fell from his lips when his brother's boots started to drag against the floor. _'Why is she trying to take him down stairs on his own?'_

 

He heaved himself off of the couch and made his way up to his brother's room in no less than a second. He almost laughed when he heard her gasp of surprise by his sudden presence and picked up his brother, cradling him in his arms as he went down to the basement.

 

The musty smell of water and grime filled his nose, causing him to scrunch it up as he laid his brother down in the dirt covered floor of the cell. When he did so, a soft groan left Stefan's mouth and he couldn't help but kneel down next to him to whisper, "I'm sorry, _fratello..._ " and brush his bronze hair away from his forehead.

 

Locking the cell, Damon gave his brother one last sad look before going up to the living room to see Elena sitting on the couch with a crestfallen face. He looked back at his old path towards the basement before looking back at Elena. He wasn't surprised that she would be like this, what with John's asshole ways, Stefan's recent kidnapping, the threat of the tomb vampires and — for who knows how long — the threat of Stefan himself.

 

He knew that just the two of them — and maybe Bonnie or Alaric — couldn't handle so many vampires almost twice Damon's age or more...

 

Could he call Evan?

 

If he does, the first thing Evan would do after picking up will be to call him every name in the book for leaving in the middle of a territorial riot... that he _might have_ been the cause of. He winced. Would he want to risk it? God knows Evan would — quite literally — take a chunk of him if he called them down here. And he knows Evan wouldn't want to leave New York without leaving behind some form of protection...

 

Damon heard another groan come from the basement. He sighed as he flopped down on the couch, ignored Elena's inquiring look and pulled his phone from his pocket. Dialing a number he hasn't called in a decade, he briefly hoped for an answer, wanting to hear from his first — and only — best friend.

 

Finally, the phone was answered. "What?" the voice asked with a sigh.

  
"Aw, Evangeline, is that anyway to speak to your best friend?"


	2. Evangeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evangeline finally makes herself known

Damon paced through the living room quietly with his arms crossed. There were was just one other heartbeat in the room: Elena, who was watching him nervously in anticipation for their new arrival. Stefan, on the other hand, was rather amused. Personally, Evangeline was a stranger, but during the few times he and his brother had gotten along, Damon spoke of her fondly quite often.

  
_“Evan once got in a fight with some idiot who wouldn't take no for an answer and knocked him out cold.”_

  
_“Three dogs, Stefan, three. You know I love dogs.”_

  
He suspected that the elder was more than just fond of Evangeline, but when he voiced his skepticism, all he got in return was, _“Don't be an idiot, she's just a friend.”_

  
Needless to say, that only made him more sure. But he did get the feeling that Damon didn't tell him as much as there is to know about the time he'd spent with her. He did say that they had met in New York, New Year's Eve 1991, and it was some of the best fun he had ever had. He seemed like he meant it too.

  
He wants his brother to have that again.

* * *

  
The rapid questions Elena delivered about who Evangeline was and who she was to him eventually stopped. He didn't like explaining about her... It was as if he was betraying the trust of his pack. Every time she asked, Damon would simply answer, _"A friend,"_ or _"You'll find out when they get here,"_ with a smirk and he'd get an eye roll or a glare in return.

  
Damon loved the fact that once again, he knows about something that none of them did. Hell, the only other one that even had a gist was Stefan, and he only knew what Damon wanted him to know.

  
From half answers to fidgeting, Damon had attempted to clean the house and continued to straighten or wipe down anything that wasn't situated to his liking. He changed his clothes three times this morning and just did a fourth time an hour ago.

  
He freely admitted that he was nervous.

  
Nervous to see her again. Evan was… something else. She was fierce, loyal and quick to anger, but laid back and smart as hell. She was beautiful. He won't deny it.

  
He was definitely nervous she was gonna kick his ass.

  
Damon knew that as soon as Evan walked through that door, he was going to end up on the floor with a shattered jaw just for not calling. Evan could hold a grudge for people that pissed her off. What he did, he expects nothing less. He dropped onto the couch and checked his phone for any missed texts or calls, but before he could somewhat relax, someone started an onslaught on the front door.

  
_‘That's mahogany wood…’_

  
He snatched the door open with a scowl. "Watch it; this wood is antiq—"

  
The person behind the door matched his scowl with brown lips and angry hazel eyes. Damon stole the few seconds he could spare to look the person over. He hasn't properly seen Evangeline since 1999. _‘She looks good… really good,’_ he thought. Her warm, sepia brown skin was just as flawless as it always has been. Her hair was different. She had dreadlocks for some time she told him, but she had shaved the sides. It fit her. Evan was a bit on the shorter side, barely pushing five foot five, but people made sure not to mention it around her. She somehow could make anyone taller than her feel even smaller than her when she was angry. 

  
"Evan...," Damon started.

  
"You son of a —no, from what you've told me, your mother had to be a fucking _saint_ to deal with you! You asshole!" she growled, quite literally with her teeth bared. She crossed the door's threshold into the house, forcing Damon to step back. His eyes barely caught the sight of another person walking in behind her. He backed into the living room with his hands held up in surrender, though he knew it would do no good.

  
In a blur of a second, Stefan and Elena were forced to watch in grotesque awe as Evangeline shoved Damon against the cherry wood of the bar and shoved her left hand into the cavity of his torso, gripping the first thing her fingers touched: his large intestines.

  
Damon groaned out in pain as her fingers wrapped around the organ, “I missed you too.”

  
"I should rip these out and feed them to you," she snarled. "Since you're such a fuckin' man whore, we almost got discovered because of the shit you started. _'Thirty wolves running rampant in New York City...'_ It was all over the fucking news, Damon. _'We'll have to keep Animal Control on high alert for this strange occurrence.'_ The fight was a piece of cake, no thanks to you."

  
"I took out three of them!" he interrupted.

  
Evan rolled her eyes with a sneer. "Oh, yes, you're such a martyr, Damon, we couldn't have done it without you. Those pricks didn't stand a chance period. The boys are mighty pissed at you, it wouldn't be difficult to call them down here to tear your ass to shreds, but because I don't feel like wastin’ my energy on y—wh—" Her eyes widened and jerked her hand out of Damon's torso, ignoring his sharp groan of pain. She stepped closer and narrowed her eyes to take in the details of her face. "Kat— no..." She focused on her ears and soon they were filled with a _human_ heartbeat. "You're her doppëlganger. You two actually look a lot more different than I thought..."

  
"You... You know her?" Elena stuttered.

  
"Do I know her? That bitch has no idea what I'd do to her if she was alive. Then I'd probably give her a hug," she admitted.

  
"A hug..?"

  
"Evan...," Damon groaned from the floor. He covered his torn, bloody abdomen with his arm. "Katherine is alive."

  
She blinked. "What?"

  
He grunted as the ripped muscles began to stitch themselves back together. "She never died in the fucking fire, alright? She played me and Stefan for a couple of fucking saps and escaped from being buried under the church."

  
"You two were... the — the ones she... She was the one you were looking for when we met...?"

  
He grunted again and Evan took it as a "yes". “How did... you know that... if you haven't seen her?” he groaned out.

  
"An old friend told me… Anna… I… I need to… I'll get you something to drink." She turned abruptly and went to find the kitchen.

  
"She was her best friend." The second human in the room finally spoke. He was as pale as Damon with light freckles dusting over his nose and under his eyes, brown eyes and shaggy white-blond hair. He was about as tall as Elena's brother, Jeremy, but more slender. He stood awkwardly near the front door that he closed quietly. "They were practically sisters up until they had an argument that separated them; Evan going to New York and Katherine to Mystic Falls."

  
With eyebrows furrowed, Damon pulled himself onto the couch with a painful groan. He laid his head down on the head rest, facing the strange boy. It was then that the three noticed that his mouth had not moved the entire time. "What are you, some kind of ventriloquist?" he blurted out. Elena shot him a reprimanding look — which he ignored — while Stefan, who tried to do the same, only managed to give him a look mixed with amusement and irritation.

  
The left corner of the boy's mouth lifted into a smirk when he answered silently once again. "I guess you could say that..."

  
"His situation gives new meaning to the phrase, 'Cat got your tongue'. Or vampire in his case," Evan said as she left the kitchen with a warmed bag of B positive; Damon's favorite. She lifted the top half of Damon's body to take a seat under him. She ignored his exaggerated groan of pain and laid his head on her thick thighs, giving him the warm bag and her the freedom to comb her fingers through his dark hair. Evan smirked at the disgusted look on Elena's face and the pining look in Stefan’s eyes as they watched him drink from the bag. "Mind if I tell them?" she asked the boy.

  
He nodded with a grim smile and sat in the last open seat in the living room.

  
"To make it as sweet as I can, Axel — I don't know why his parents named him that, it was the 90s, whatever — but he's a warlock. A fuckin' powerful one too. Almost everyone on his mother's side was; it skips every generation... Anyway, it was some group of insecure leeches —”

  
Damon grunted around the straw of the bag in offense, and she tugged on his hair for interrupting her.

  
“ _Vampires_ that thought he was little _too_ powerful. He ended up getting jumped in Central Park and they ripped out his tongue to keep him from performing any rituals.” Another disgusted look passed over the face of the other human in the room, though Elena tried to cover it up by sending Axel sympathetic smile.

  
“What they didn’t expect was for the spirits of his ancestors to take revenge on them and basically burned them from the inside out… That’s how I found him with a bloody mouth and four piles of ashes. With a nose like mine, you can only imagine how bad the smell was… Been a part of my pack ever since,” Evan grinned. “Strange thing was, he didn't look like he was in any pain, only like he was uncomfortable.”

  
“My ancestors had numbed down the pain…,” Axel added.

  
“The witches healed him so he could speak without his tongue,” Evan looked over at Axel. “I think it was something like you feeling that it's there, but it's not?”

  
He nodded awkwardly, shifting in his seat from being under all the attention.

  
“Is it the same way when you eat?” Stefan empathized. Axel nodded for a second time and all he could do was offer him a sad smile. “Wait… if you can speak, how and why do you speak without moving your mouth or not speak at all?”

  
“My ancestors guided me through the ritual I was doing when I was attacked. I thought it wouldn't be possible, but somehow the magic understood what I wanted to say. Doing so allowed me to unlock one of the traits that my family treasures: telepathy. As for using telepathy or simply keeping silent… girls like mysterious guys,” Axel grinned slyly.

  
Damon and Stefan snorted along with Elena who rolled her eyes, muttering “Boys” under her breath.

  
“So wait…,” Stefan started. “ _‘Pack?’_ You're a werewolf?”

  
The female newcomer hummed in amusement. Glancing down at her lap, she questioned the eldest vampire with her eyes. _“You didn't say anything?”_ To which he rolled his eyes and sat up. He stood and picked up the empty bag on the floor. “Wasn't my place to say,” he chimed as made his way to the kitchen.

  
Impressed at his secrecy, Evan answered the youngest’s question. “Not exactly… I'm a shifter. Wolf shifters aren’t held down by the moon cycle. We are descended from werewolves, yes, but the shifters are a race of their own. Just like vampires and witches.” Here, Damon returned from the kitchen with a second bag and laid back down on the couch, his head reclaiming its place in Evan’s lap. The others watched as her hand casually combed through his hair again, as if nothing had changed. “There's more than just wolves too. Big cats, other canines; different breeds of the same species. Got a friend in Georgia who's a desert lynx. Family in Africa that are African wild dogs.”

  
Elena, still in awe of just vampires, let alone witches, sat back against the couch in shock. All this new information was coming at her so quickly and she wasn't sure what to do with it. What else was there about the supernatural world? What else were humans oblivious to?

  
But Stefan’s curiosity grew. He had heard of the race in passing but never gained the chance to encounter a shifter until now. “I don't think I've ever seen a pack of shifters, let alone had the opportunity to know one. How are you so discreet?”

  
A sly grin overcame the wolf’s face. “You may have already. Because we aren't controlled by the moon, we have the freedom to change as we please. Just like natually born predators, shifters and werewolves have a hierarchy. An Alpha, the leader and usually the strongest. Betas, the footmen. And Omegas, I don't really wanna say the _weakest_ especially since I know some that could kick Damon's ass.” She snickered as he pinched her leg. “But more submissive, that would describe them better. For example, Axel is the Omega in my pack. Just as strong as the rest of us, but easier to kill. We keep our packs in check. On top of that, shifters don't need to kill to survive like vampires, nor do we have violent transitions like werewolves. We do the first few times, but we get over it rather quickly.”

  
Finally bored of the history lesson, Damon jumped up. “Enough class for tonight, children. Time for bed.”

  
“But I had more questions…,” Stefan protested. It wasn't every day that someone who had been on the Earth way past their lifetime got to learn something new.

  
“Yeah, Damon’s right. I'm sore as hell; we had to drive down here and my legs are killing me.” Evan stood and twisted side to side, attempting to stretch the muscles in her back. “Would've been here earlier if I ran, but I got the kid here, unfortunately.” Axel snorted and he too got up from his seat, rubbing his sore neck.

  
“I can, uh, run you a bath if you want,” Damon suggested, smirking slyly down at his friend. He would gladly do so if it meant seeing her wet and soapy.

  
“And sit in my own dirt?” Evan scrunched up her nose. “But would you be a dear and get our bags from the car? We're beat.” She stroked his bicep slowly, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Inwardly, he sighed. _‘The Pout’_ was something that none could resist, he learned in the decade he'd spent with the pack. He was only one of the many that, no matter how hard you tried, succumbing to the innocent (read: bullshit) look she had in her eye.

  
“Yeah, whatever…," he sighed.

  
She jumped up and kissed his cheek quickly before latching arms with Axel. “And order us some food? Lots of it, I'm starving.”

  
Groaning, Damon pulled his phone from his back pocket. “What am I your slave?”

  
As they walked up the stairs to find empty bedrooms, she yelled out, “Consider it reparation!”

* * *

 

Evangeline and Axel:

 


End file.
